"J.A.R.V.I.S., do you think I've been a little too arrogant? A little too relaxed?" Tony asked, staring blankly at the ceiling.
"Sir, you frequently travel without a security detail. Such behavior is highly dangerous, especially considering the rapidly increasing number of super-powered individuals in the world," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. As an artificial intelligence, he didn't sugarcoat his words. He delivered the blunt, unfiltered truth.
"Yeah, you're right." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. He finally realized just how reckless his actions had been.
Back when he was only dealing with the mundane "Surface World," danger certainly existed, but it was manageable. Furthermore, S.H.I.E.L.D. had secretly been running interference for him in the shadows.
But things had changed. Facing the existential crises lurking in the "Inner World," even S.H.I.E.L.D. was struggling to protect itself, let alone him.
"I get it. I'll be much more careful when I go out from now on," Tony conceded. "Also, J.A.R.V.I.S., set a reminder. I need to install heavy defensive countermeasures at the Malibu mansion and the new Stark Tower. Start drawing up blueprints for automated anti-air missile batteries."
Based on Lucas's diary, Tony had deduced that his imminent threats would likely come from ordinary human factions. While conventional missiles might be useless against a cosmic entity or a god, they were incredibly effective at vaporizing mundane hit squads and rival mercenaries.
Meanwhile, at the Triskelion.
"Increase our protective detail on Tony Stark immediately," Nick Fury ordered.
"Understood, Director," Agent Hill replied briskly.
"Tony Stark is far too important to us," Fury continued, his one good eye narrowing. "Not just because his father, Howard Stark, was a founding member of S.H.I.E.L.D. More importantly, he is the key to solving a future, universe-level crisis. We cannot afford to lose him."
Tony's self-destructive tendencies gave Fury a massive headache, but he knew it was par for the course. They were all entitled, self-destructive playboys. If you dug into what the global elite did behind closed doors, you'd realize almost every single one of them belonged in a S.H.I.E.L.D. black site.
"Stark has his armor, so it's not like he's entirely defenseless," Natasha Romanoff chimed in, leaning against the briefing table. "But judging by Lucas's diary, the immediate threat isn't coming from gods or aliens. Those cosmic beings wouldn't care enough to target Stark specifically, nor would they view him as a 'god' to be toppled. The threat is mundane. And when it comes to neutralizing mundane, human threats, S.H.I.E.L.D. excels. We can intercept these dangers before they ever reach him, just like we used to."
In the golden halls of Asgard.
Thor read the latest diary entry with a heavy heart. Seeing Lucas use the word "god" to describe a mortal like Tony Stark usually would have annoyed him. He was the God of Thunder, after all.
But the phrase A bleeding god will be killed struck a deep, resonant chord within him.
If he had read this a few months ago, he would have been furious and tried to hunt Lucas down for the disrespect. But now, he finally understood the profound metaphor. It reminded him entirely of his own father.
In the past, Thor spent his days warring across the Nine Realms. He rarely saw the All-Father. Like most traditional families, they communicated very little.
But recently, Thor had been grounded in Asgard. With the Bifrost shattered, traveling between realms was a massive hassle, even with the secret pathways.
More importantly, he had countless questions to ask his father regarding the dark future Lucas had unveiled. During these long conversations, Thor deeply and truly sensed his father's terrifyingly rapid aging.
Although Odin's magical reserves still felt as vast and boundless as the cosmic ocean, Thor could detect the subtle, unmistakable stench of decay lingering beneath the surface.
Feeling the rot within that boundless divine power had terrified Thor. He had immediately confronted his father about it. Odin had calmly confirmed the truth.
Just as Lucas's diary had predicted, Odin was living on borrowed time. Holding on for a few more years changed nothing fundamentally. The All-Father was inevitably going to fade away.
A bleeding god attracts the covetous eyes of wolves.
An aging, dying god was no different. It attracted the invasion of the Dark Elves. It emboldened the Frost Giants. It guaranteed the awakening of Surtur and the Fire Giants to trigger Ragnarok.
In the ancient past, none of these conquered factions would have ever dared to step out of line. Odin's iron-blooded prestige and absolute power had maintained the peace of Asgard for millennia. But as the years took their toll, that absolute deterrence had begun to crack.
That was why the wolves were suddenly circling. The Frost Giants, the Dark Elves, the Fire Giants—none of them were merciful. They were all waiting to tear Asgard apart and devour its corpse.
Thor had never understood this geopolitical reality before. But now, he did.
In the past, he was just Thor, Asgard's greatest warrior. He was allowed to get hurt. He was allowed to lose. Because he wasn't the final line of defense. He wasn't the pillar that held the Nine Realms together.
His failures didn't matter because there was always someone to clean up his messes. His father.
But in the future, Thor would sit upon the throne. As the King of Asgard, he could never be allowed to lose. He couldn't be defeated, and he couldn't ever let the Nine Realms see him bleed.
Odin had painstakingly maintained this facade of absolute invincibility his entire life, securing a thousand years of peace. Now, the burden was passing to Thor.
"Tony Stark merely bled in public, and it brought endless trouble to his doorstep. How much worse will it be for Asgard?" Thor sighed heavily, staring at the golden ceiling. "Father, I finally understand the weight you carry."
He had finally touched upon the true realm of kingship.
At that exact moment, golden text shimmered across the pages of the diary. It was updating again.
Still, I have always preferred superheroes with human flaws. It is exactly because they are flawed that their actions leave you in absolute awe. When they suppress their deepest fears and act entirely on heroic instinct, it is breathtaking.
Take the Battle of New York, for example. Who on earth could have predicted that Tony Stark would intercept a nuclear missile and carry it straight into the sky?
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